


Super Friends!

by trufflemores



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 3.17, F/M, Gen, SHENANIGANS!, Singing!, Speedsters!, oh my!, reaction fic, whatever-the-heck-it's-called
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-08 01:24:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10374696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trufflemores/pseuds/trufflemores
Summary: 3.17 spec. Barry and Kara sing together. It's completely ridiculous.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I got the song lyrics and some of the shenanigans from the new SuperFlash trailer for this episode -- I did not write the Super Friends song. :D (I did create the last three lines.) Enjoy!

They're locked in a piano room with a pianist who looks and acts like Winn but has not said a single word to them, and Kara's pretty sure one or both of them is about to start hyperventilating.

Frantically, Barry draws his hands over his hair. "I can't sing," he blurts out.

Kara exhales deeply. "Oh thank God," she says. When Barry wears his pouty, wounded expression, she hastily amends, "I can't dance, like, at all, so – at least we're in a sinking ship together, right?"

"I can't do that either," Barry admits, pained. "I mean, I can – " Barry skitters to and fro a little, tapping his feet, clickity-clickity-clickity. "That's it, I can't like – actually dance. Not on a ballroom or anything. But this is just – you know – you just – move your feet." He does a little jimmy and Kara stares.

"Slow down," she advises, and he dramatically and very pointedly taps one foot. _CLICK._

"You're on in five," Not-Winn-The-Pianist reminds impatiently, lighting up a cigarette.

"Those are bad for you," Barry replies.

Not-Winn arches both eyes. "That haircut's bad for you, sweetheart." Unused, he extinguishes the cigarette on the floor.

Barry opens his mouth to respond to that, closes it, and clasp his hands together. He twirls on his heel – _twirls_ – and Kara thinks, _I've unleashed a monster._ "Have you ever seen _Happy Feet_?" he asks. "It's just like singing. With your body." He taps both feet at the same time.

"I can't sing," Kara reminds. "And I've never seen _Happy Feet_."

Barry stops immediately. "Do they not – oh, you'll love it, it's so your – anyway." Waving a hand, he adds, "Just … pretend you have a very real vendetta against the floor. Or you're being attacked by ants." He snaps a heel sharply against the floor. "Like that."

Kara stomps down in response and Barry winces. "Little less – like this." He rocks his foot on the hardwood, heel-to-toe, and Kara – ever the quick study – mirrors him. "Yes! Just." He repeats the gesture in reverse, toe-to-heel, and grins when she mimics it. "Keep doing that. But mix it up. Y'know." Even without his speed, his feet _fly_. "Like that."

It's like "take one step forward; take one step back; now launch yourself into the sky." Which would be easy if she still had her powers, but lacking them, it's utterly incomprehensible. She's not sure she'd master the dance even _with_ her powers, and as Not-Winn helpfully informs, they have "three minutes." To learn a dance routine they make up on the spot. And _sing_.

"Just – do your best, it'll be fine. We're not getting graded on quality," Barry reminds, which is true.

 _I don't actually care how well either of you sing or dance,_ the Music Meister informed. _I just want to see you struggle._

They'll definitely be able to deliver on that front, she's convinced, curls out of place, her missing cape a very real loss. At least Barry doesn't seem to mind being out of the suit too much, taking the predicament in stride. _He has a hidden talent_ , Kara snarks, and then Not-Winn starts playing the piano.

 _What happens if we don't play along?_ Barry dared to ask the Music Meister, who smiled, rather unpleasantly, and planted a gun in his ribcage.

 _You can't see them, but eight of my finest have guns pointed at you both._ _Whistle for me, gang._ The hair on the back of Kara's neck stood up as whistles filled the seemingly empty space. _You try to escape, Bam._ _You refuse to play along, Bam._ _You try to take_ my _gun,_ he pulled the trigger and Barry flinched. He didn't collapse, though, and it quickly became apparent it was a warning. _Next chamber isn't empty,_ the Music Meister explained sweetly. _Follow the script and you'll do great._ _Refuse—_ he shrugged and turned the gun to one side, firing at a wall. It punched a sizeable chunk of wood out of its frame. _Bam._ _Capiche?_

Then he dumped them in this room with Not-Winn and told them to come up with a suitably entertaining number for him.

Winn's fingers skate across the piano, his glare warning as he looks at them, repeating a melody. Even though she's literally performing for her life – or perhaps _because_ she's performing for her life – Kara's throat closes immediately. She can't make a sound, so Barry steps in, stumbling a little as he begins, "In … times like these when … life is getting me down." She looks at him and he shrugs, as if to say, _Roll with it,_ his snarky smile only barely hiding his own nerves because if they don't follow along – Bam!

"And the world seems like it's gonna end… ship!" he tacks on hurriedly.

Eloquently and completely under her breath, she gestures. _I don't know._ She daren't interrupt his improvised song, afraid that they don't get a start-over and –

 _Oh, by the way_. Music Meister popped a pink bubble of gum loudly. _Almost forgot._ _You die in here, you die out there._ _So don't think you'll just *poof*_ \- he snapped his fingers – _all_ _safe and sound to your sad little boring universe._ _You follow my rules or you die by them._

We're trapped in a delusional universe with no way to get home, Kara thinks, and even though they can't verify the Music Meister's veracity, it's too risky.

So Barry fumbles like he's holding a sixty-pound sea lion pup for the next line, hands appropriately up high and upturned. "There's at least one power that we both still have …" He's looking at her with obvious hopefulness and she thinks, with sudden, radiant calm, _I am a badass at charades_. "…and that's the power of—"

It hangs a little long but he is holding out a proverbial sixty-pound sea lion so, shoot her, she's slow: "… Friend-ship?"

Not-Winn lights up and Barry breaks out into a Christmas card smile. "Yeah! That's exactly what I was gonna say!"

"Yeah, I mean, it's an easy rhyme," she says, because they're actually in second grade coming up with their very first rhyme, ever, and she really wishes she could take a photo of that smile. _Flash's First Rhyme_ , she'd call it, and hang it over a mantle, just so she could show it off to all her fancy house guests while hosting a beautiful cocktail party in a red dress, laughing and sipping swine from a crystal glass because, "Oh, yes, I helped _The Flash_ create his seminal work, 'What rhymes with end-ship?'"

Of course, the fantasy is only that because she could never actually out Barry to a large group of strangers just for the sake of a High Point in her life, but it's nice. Her shoulders relax; even without his Speed, Barry puts off a far more relaxed aura in the wake of their first verse.

"I'm your super friend!" Barry belts, and it takes everything in her not to laugh until she's purple, giggling as he starts tapping like a banshee. "Your super friend!" He is really, really into this now, and it takes no effort whatsoever for her to walk across the floor and put a hand contemplatively on her chin. _Oh, Lordy, what am I ever going to do with this one?_ she affects.

Not-Winn's eating it up, as is Barry, who keeps going, never missing a beat. He's like a puppy, enthusiasm compensating for finesse. " _I'll be there in the nick of time!_ _If you're ever – in a spot!_ "

Her turn: she jumps right in, mimicking his little jimmy easily. " _And if not there in time you can just go_ back _in time, and give it another shot!_ "

"I'm not actually supposed to do that anymore," Barry says, seven-years-old and admitting to jumping off the swings, even though one time he broke his arm doing so, because _it looked like fun._

Kara pauses a beat and says, "Oh, okay."

Then Barry twirls – literally and actually _twirls_ – and encourages in a bright voice, "Sing!"

_All righty, then._

Turns out singing is like dancing, for her voice. They've got the chorus down-pat, playing off each other easily.

" _Super friends!_ " she belts, because the only proper volume for this song is Full. " _You're my super friend!_ _Together we can stop any and every crime…"_

Barry grins. " _…_ _and at the ice cream parlor we'll have an incredible time!"_

" _As long as it's on Not-Winn's dime,_ " Kara chimes in behind a hand, prompting a bark of laughter and a bemused smile from Not-Winn.

" _Cause you're my super friend!_ " Barry finishes, dipping her, and _whoa_ , tiger. He doesn't drop her, thank God. She laughs when he reels her back up, falling into step beside him.

Barry's Hallmark smile doesn't let up as he gets into it, and Kara finally realizes that this is why people fawn over him. ("I am not crushing on him," her Winn insisted after the first meeting, blushing furiously, even though he absolutely slept with Barry's sweater because "Oh, hey, I forgot I left this here." Kara definitely did not steal it. She wasn't _that_ obvious.) He's easy to play with, throwing himself wholeheartedly into it.

By the time Not-Winn finishes with an absolute flourish, Barry exhales an explosive, " _Whoo!_ " Kara grins, slightly flushed, and holds up a hand for a high-five.

"Super friends," he beams.

She rolls her arms and jumps when he grabs her, a bullet sizzling in the wall where she stood. " _Hey_ ," he barks, keeping his arm around her waist protectively. "What the hell was that for?"

"Making me watch that with my own two eyes," the Music Meister says, rubbing them as though he's in pain. Then, dropping his hand, he looks at Barry and says in a dangerously low tone, "You cheated."

Barry frowns. "I did no—" Then he pauses, the tips of his ears going red because _end-ship_ , and says, "That wasn't one of the rules."

"Is now," Music Meister insists, clapping his hands. "And retroactively, I'm implementing it. So if you ever want out of here, I'd suggest shaping up for the finale." He smiles and holsters his gun. "You have one hour." He walks out, and neither Barry nor she move, very aware of the little red dots trained on them, ready to fire if they twitch the wrong way.

"Well," Barry says with somewhat strained cheer, letting her go, "we didn't die."

Kara plants her forehead against his shoulder. "Are we really going to do this?"

She doesn't need to look up to see the red lights again. Barry pats her back reassuringly. "After all we've been through? Piece of cake."

. o .

Sitting beside him on the dance floor, Kara offers Barry another handkerchief. "Thanbs," he says thickly, holding it to his nose. "Nice kib."

"Did I break it?" she asks in concern.

Barry shrugs. "Worth ib."

A heel on Music Meister's back, Iris – Millie – asks, "You need this?" Barry shakes his head slightly, looking at her, half in disbelief, half in undisguised awe. "Take him out," Millie instructs, Not-Joe and Not-Stein complying, dragging Music Meister ungracefully from the room. With a shrug, Millie says, "He has terrible tastes." Eyeing them up, she smiles a little. "Except in performers."

Barry blushes to his hairline, and even Kara stumbles a little when she says, "That's very kind of you."

"Thanb you," Barry adds, as sincerely as he can.

Millie hums, looking at Tommy – who with typical Mon El swagger, has his feet up on a table, watching the drama unfold. "Tom," she says, "we're through."

Tommy says, "Amen to that, baby doll," and walks out of the room.

Kara considers going after him, a strange tug of curiosity in her gut, but it's quashed when Iris – Millie – steps forward and takes a hold of Barry's tie. "Now you," she purrs, "speak my language. That was some fine tap-dancing. I love a man who's good on his feet."

Barry makes a thin, not exactly protesting noise, and Kara gives his shoulder a pointed squeeze. "We really have to get back to our world," she says apologetically. Barry, mesmerized and held in an all but literal chokehold, doesn't back her up.

Millie looks at her, arches her eyebrows. "How do you propose to do that?" she asks. "You have a calling card?"

Kara gives Barry's shoulder a firmer squeeze. He lets out an apologetic sigh and nods. "Th' pibe," he says. "Play th' pipe, ib'll wabe usss ub." He mimes holding a lute and adds, "S'in the bob."

"Play the magic pipe, it'll wake us up," Kara translates, actually dragging him back a little, because she really does not want to have to explain to Actually Iris that her boyfriend – not boyfriend – fiancé? Something – got side-tracked with a doppelganger. A _dream._ "It's in the box," she adds, nodding across the room.

She doesn't want to leave Millie and Barry alone but, well, neither of them are moving. "I'll get it," she sighs.

Kara breaks the box open with little fuss and pulls out the pipe. "Shall I do the honors?" she asks no one, and Barry looks up at last and finally gently pushes Millie away and nods, getting to his feet.

She puts it to her lips and blows a single note.

It's like a thunderclap in her ears, extremely loud and very close, and she jerks upright, startled to find herself on her back. "Where am I?" she demands, reaching up with unexpected strength to yank off all the monitors in one go, the room in chaos.

J'onn says, "Easy, Kara," and Kara blinks at him, relieved and surprised to see him. _This isn't the DEO,_ is her first thought, followed by, _Where's Barry?_ She needn't look far; he's sitting up in a bed next to her, _his_ Iris right there, a comforting hand on his shoulder, and yup, that is one hell of a bruise forming where she all but roundhouse-kicked him in the face.

 _The Music Meister was right_ , she thinks, and feels a chill like cold water at the thought that they would have died in real life if they died in the dream.

It only takes fifteen minutes to get sorted enough to order pizza, eating on the floor in the cortex because it's closer to the boxes and there's room for everybody, and J'onn is too dignified for it so he sits on the console while a Harrison Wells lookalike – _That's HR_ , Barry explains, swallowing a bite comprised of three slices of pizza stacked on top of each other, and it's brilliant, so Kara mimics the style with her next three – who has assumed a perfect lotus position and eats an appalling quantity of syrup with his pizza.

"You guys are missing out," he tells them, and Kara politely declines when he offers her the bottle.

"Did you really kick him in the face?" Wally asks, sounding vaguely awed, and Kara can't help but smile.

Things heat up when Barry lets slip that they had to "sing and dance" their way through it, prompting a flurry of questions.

Kara leans her back against Barry's, us-against-the-world style, and muses, "Should I tell them?"

"I think it should be our secret," Barry replies, holding out a Dixie cup of water to one side. She taps her own against it. "To super friends," he says, at a frequency she knows no one else can hear.

"To super friends," she replies.

Wally laughs.

"To friends," he agrees enigmatically, holding up his own cup. "We've gotta stop meeting under life-threatening circumstances."

"God, but it's so much _fun_ ," Kara teases, leaning dramatically over Barry's shoulder, and she can feel him vibrate with laughter against her.

If nothing else, she appreciates that the Music Meister gave her a reason to _laugh_ with him.

Sometimes, she doesn't want to take herself seriously, and she's glad he's in the same boat.

 _Let's mess up together more often,_ she says.

She has no doubt he'll oblige, his shoulder pressing against hers in affirmation.


End file.
